Luke Triton and the Fallen Star
by FranziskavonKarmaWhippedYou
Summary: Descole's daughter Jeanne, champion poker player and ex-gentleman Luke Triton and journalist Mila Altava must band together to get the Mafia off of Luke's tail.
1. The Baby on the Doorstep

Lying on the doorstep was a young baby, its limbs flailing. Its face was scrunched up and it was screaming, tears running down its face. Raymond leaned down and picked up the baby, testing several positions before he was sure the baby was in the right position. He carefully inched open the door with his shoulder and shut it with his foot before awkwardly walking into the living room, where Jean Descole sat hunched over his desk, quill scribbling away furiously.

"Master?" Raymond asked, barely stopping himself from gulping.

"Yes?" Descole asked, not looking up from his papers. They were covered in what looked like a child's scribbles, but Descole couldn't afford to waste time getting the main ideas for his newest invention down.

"...I found a bairn on the doorstep," Raymond replied. That got Descole's attention. His arm ceased functioning and the quill dropped, creating a splotch of ink on a bit of blank paper (lucky it was blank). Descole stood up and walked over, staring at the baby Raymond was cradling.

"Did you see, per chance, who put the child there?" Descole asked, trying to decide if prodding the baby was the right thing to do at this point. No, he had to empty his mind of silly thoughts like that.

"I didnae see anyone, Master," Raymond reported faithfully. Descole mulled it over, then decided it wasn't worth it standing there looking confused.

"I'll take the baby. Get Melinda, she should know what to do," Descole replied, carefully taking the baby. Was he holding it right? It was still screaming at him. Raymond briskly walked out, leaving Descole staring into the beautiful eyes of the baby. He wasn't entirely sure of its sex, and it took him a few minutes to check, but when he had, he knew it. When his cook Melinda rushed in with Raymond behind her, she gasped.

"It's adorable!" she squealed.

"It's not an 'it'," Descole explained patiently. "It is a 'she'. And she has a name."

"A name? Master, does that mean..." Raymond trailed off purposefully. Descole nodded.

"Get the adoption forms ready. Jeanne will be joining the family," Descole said. "Melinda, I am going to need a hand in Jeanne's upbringing. Do you know anyone who could possibly help?"

"Sorry, Master. I don't know, but I can call round and see if any of my friends will be willing," Melinda said. Descole nodded.

"Yes... Yes, that's what you'll do. I appreciate your efforts, Melinda," Descole said and only then noticed that Jeanne's wail had finally ceased. The minute he was alone, he let himself smile down at young Jeanne, who smiled and giggled back. Descole melted at her adorable face, but knew he had to steel himself for the upcoming years. He couldn't melt at the sight of his new daughter anymore.

He was going to need to get used to Jeanne Descole. 


	2. Former Gentleman, Current Poker Champion

Professor Hershel Layton and his teenaged 'pal' Luke Triton were walking through a mall when Layton spotted a familiar face. Descole was walking, holding onto the hand of a young girl.

"PROFESSOR?" Luke folded his arms. Layton was trapped in his own world and Luke was about to walk off when Luke spotted Descole. "Is that...?" Luke broke into a jog, calling out Descole's name. Descole turned and Jeanne hid behind him.

"I know it's been a very long time since we last met, but we're holding up the crowd. This way," Descole said impatiently. Jeanne toddled along, ending up running to keep up with Descole's harsh pace. Layton managed to catch up with Luke, and like his friend before him, noticed Jeanne silently. Jeanne tried to avoid the stares.

Descole selected a quiet (for once) Starbucks and once everyone had made their orders they made their way to a table.

"It's been a while, Descole," Layton said, starting the initial conversation. "Who's the little one?" Jeanne peered up from her small cup of tea.

"I'm Jeanne," she mumbled. "And you..?" Layton smiled, silently pleased at Jeanne's formality.

"Professor Layton. Nice to meet you, Jeanne," Layton replied.

"Luke Triton," Luke said boredly. "...good to see you, Jeanne." Descole glared at Luke.

"Little Jeanne arrived on my doorstep five years ago," Descole explained. "Before her, I thought babies were screaming idiots. Jeanne hasn't cried since I first saw her."

"Is that even possible?" Luke asked. Jeanne glared at him.

"Of course it is!" she said sharply and looked down at her tea, completely ignoring everyone.

* * *

><p>Jeanne Descole walked up to the doors of the poker club and stared at them. Was Luke Triton, the brave boy who had run up machines to rescue ladies, now a poker champion who was lurking beyond these doors? Surely he couldn't change his ways so quickly and without reason...<p>

Instead of dwelling further on the subject, Jeanne entered the poker club and finally felt not so silly in her flowing cape and mask, tailored to be like Descole's yet somehow almost more feminine. She still felt a bit embarrassed in the mask so she pulled it away, revealing her full facial features, starting from her stunning, deep, Darmouth green eyes.

She spotted Luke Triton instantly - it would be hard not to. His side of the table was surrounded by fans, 'ooh'ing and 'ah'ing and egging him on. Jeanne watched as he played so expertly, his eyes darting around. Once he'd finished, Jeanne approached him.

"So, Triton. It's been fifteen years," she said, pulling him out of his chair and taking him for a stroll. "Do you remember me?"

"Please. The last fifteen years have been tramautizing and stressing, so I'm not going to remember a diddly little girl," Luke replied coldly. He had once been a bright boy, but he hadn't been that way for a great many years. Not since his parents had died.

"Well, my name is Jeanne. Jeanne Descole," Jeanne replied. "So. I heard you were..." She pulled Luke behind a fountain and lowered her voice. "...in trouble with the Mafia."

"Oh, I remember you. By the way, the Mafia are going to kill you now you've meddled in our business," Luke whispered. "If you run now, they might leave you alone."

"Luke. I am Jean Descole's only daughter. I'm armed - knives up my sleeve, guns in my socks and jacket pockets, a bradawl down the back of my neck and grenades in my trouser pocket. Because I am wearing a cape, it's not visible at all," Jeanne taunted. "Now follow me. This place is rigged with landmines. You're going to follow me, or get your legs blown off." Luke stared at Jeanne, trying to decipher whether she was bluffing.

He decided she wasn't bluffing and followed her to the back door, which was being guarded by a sleepy thug. Jeanne was about to push the thug away when he pulled out a gun and pressed it to his forehead. Jeanne smiled.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, sir," she said, stepping backwards. "This place is rigged with bombs and landmines, not to mention I am armed. Guns, knives, grenades." The guard growled and pressed a button for backup. A fox-faced girl with long, dark brown hair walked over, carefully avoiding the landmine in her way.

"You placed the landmines well. The bulge is very difficult to see," the girl said respectfully, nodding her head at Jeanne. "I'll evacuate the building. Can you help with that?" Jeanne nodded and took one side of the poker club, gently yet still firmly telling them the club was covered in landmines and guiding them away. She was just escorting the last group out when a huge ball of fire sent her flying into the wall.

* * *

><p><strong>It's so short! I really need to make it bigger. In the next chapter, I will explain why the hard and cruel Jean Descole fell for a little baby, don't you worry.<strong>


	3. Emmelina Descole & Don Remilia

The gunshot rang out and Descole's blood ran cold. Emmelina fell backwards and collapsed against the solid brick wall. In a matter of several seconds, Descole had found the hidden assailant and another gunshot rang out. The assailant hit the ground and Descole rushed to Emmelina's side, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"Emmelina," he said worriedly. "Emmelina?" Her eyes cracked open an inch and she stared up at Descole.

"Br...othe...r?" Emmelina moaned, then her heart stopped. Descole found himself in a position where he was unable to move, trapped staring down at Emmelina's corpse.

"Damn it," he mumbled, managing to get to his feet. The minute he found the strength to look away from Emmelina, he found himself in control of his body. Silently and swiftly, he turned and walked away, taking the gun with him in his left hand. He could not cry. If he cried, he would be seen as weak.

So Jean Descole did not cry.

* * *

><p><em>"Hey, Jean?" Emmelina prodded Descole on the shoulder.<em>

_"I'm busy," he replied, accidentally smudging his work. It wasn't an important line, so it wasn't worth annoying Emmelina for the next two weeks over it._

_"I just wanted to talk to you," Emmelina objected, pulling a chair over and parking herself next to Descole. "Surely you can listen and work?"_

_"Fine," Descole replied, not looking up from his work. "So, what is it?"_

_"I was thinking of adopting, seeing as I have... infertility," Emmelina said. It wasn't the easiest of subjects to discuss with her brother of all people, but he had always had an ear open for her. "And by adopting, I meant adopting soon."_

_"Soon...? How soon?" Descole asked, his eyes still locked on his paper as his quill formed an arc on the page. "I have to leave soon. Business."_

_"Aww... Does that mean I should postpone it?" Emmelina asked sadly._

_"No, that means you should do what you think is right," Descole replied. "I'm not in charge of your life, Emmelina."_

_Two weeks later, the day Descole and Emmelina were walking to the orphanage, a mysterious assailant killed Emmelina._

* * *

><p>Jeanne woke with a start, unsure why she had been asleep at all until she raised a hand to her head. There was a bruise on her head and she winced as her fingers ran over it. Then she remembered the explosion and jumped to her feet. The poker club was absolutely ruined. The girl was putting out the last of the fires using the fire extinguisher.<p>

Jeanne stumbled over, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to get to the girl. The girl tossed the fire extinguisher to the floor and turned to Jeanne.

"You were crying out in your sleep," the girl said matter-of-factly, with her hand on her hip. She folded her arms as it was more comfortable, then continued. "What are you dreaming of?"

"I was dreaming of a story my father told me many moons ago. He said it was why he chose to take me in instead of sending me to an orphanage," Jeanne replied. "Where's Luke?"

"Oh, he's locked in the basement with a gun pointed at his head," the girl said nastily, then propped a gun against Jeanne's forehead. "I disarmed you earlier. The landmines are deactivated, as are your bombs. You're defenseless."

"So, now that you have me defenseless, what do you want?" Jeanne asked, trying to step back and avoid the gun but it returned itself to her forehead.

"I want you far, far away from here. Oh, and all the money for the repairs is coming from you. If you refuse, Luke gets a bullet in his brain... so do you," the girl giggled. "He's in trouble with the Mafia. With me. Do you want to be in trouble with us?"

"No. I would rather be associated with you than your enemy," Jeanne replied. "I need to speak with Luke. Is that alright with you?"

"As long as I am listening in to the entire conversation," the girl replied. She guided Jeanne down into the dark and damp basement, but didn't turn on the lights. Luke was standing by the bookshelf, browsing its contents. He barely registered Jeanne until she was standing right next to him.

"Good morning," Jeanne said. Luke greeted her with a nod but was still browsing the bookshelf. Eventually, he moved away and sat on a table.

"Morning. Did anyone ever tell you that you were sexy?" Luke asked. Jeanne was taken aback by this remark and the Mafia girl chuckled. Even the grunt who was pointing a gun at Luke allowed himself a smirk.

"...no," Jeanne replied after a lengthy pause. "W-why?"

"Oh, I'm just asking," Luke remarked sarcastically, then returned to normal (if it could even be called that). "You are."

"And why am I hearing a man thirteen years older than me telling me this?" Jeanne inquired. Luke smirked.

"Come now, I've been loveless for over twenty years!" he replied. Jeanne rolled her eyes.

"I'm twenty and you're thirty-three, you idiot," Jeanne snapped. She fished in her pocket, produced a scrap of paper and messily scrawled 'uxq, xvh iluh grru' on it. She shoved it into Luke's hand. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "3 more." With that, she turned around and left, the Mafia girl's watchful eyes following her. Luke solved Jeanne's puzzle instantly.

Rookie journalist Mila Altava stared at the charred poker club, then moved her gaze down to her clipboard and paper on it. She added some notes and when she noticed a person walking through the wreckage she rushed over.

"Excuse me!" Mila called. "Can you tell me what happened here?" The woman stared at Mila.

"A bomb went off. That's it," the woman replied and as she walked away, Mila tailed her, desparate for her first ever first-page article. The woman grabbed Mila and shoved her away.

"No! Come back!" Mila yelled, running after the woman. "I just want my scoop! My first scoop!" The woman let Mila catch up as she slowed to an ordinary walk.

"You can have your scoop, on two conditions," the woman said sharply. "Number one: You write what I tell you two, and number two: you help me save my friend from the Mafia. Oh, and I'll add number three: you never tell anyone about this. Sound good?" Mila nodded.

"Of course. Don't worry, I won't do anything to break your conditions! I'm not like the other journalists!" Mila grinned. The woman nodded her head in recognition.

"My name is Jeanne Descole. Have you heard of poker champion Luke Triton?" the girl asked. Mila frowned.

"Yeah," Mila replied. "Didn't he used to be Professor Layton's assistant until his parents died?" Jeanne nodded and looked back at the smoking wreck.

"...he's in trouble with the Mafia and is being held inside the poker club basement. I gave him a code to run using the fire exit door which is coated in a layer of dust and practically invisible. But I have the feeling Don Remilia didn't miss it," Jeanne said, beginning to walk back to the poker club.

"Who's Don Remilia?" Mila asked, following Jeanne back to the poker club.

"Don Paolo's eldest daughter and the leader of the Mafia in London," Jeanne replied. "She's beautiful, intelligent and has killed before. She's won the heart of the entire bloody Mafia."

"Don Paolo has DAUGHTERS?" Mila was taken aback. Don Paolo wasn't the type to have children.

"He has a surprising amount of tolerance. He took in 13-year-old twins and their sisters after seeing them orphaned and homeless on the streets. It was their way of life, how they made remarkable inventions with what little they had. It impressed him so much, and the maturity of the sisters," Jeanne explained.

"It still sounds unlikely," Mila replied. "13-year-old FEMALES? Because of their inventions?"

"They fashioned a water bottle out of paper," Jeanne replied. "Out of paper they managed to snatch on the street. Just ordinary paper."

"Okay, that is impressive. But still, females?" Mila shrugged.

"Oh, shut up. My father took me in when I was a baby that could do nothing but be silent. What convinced Descole to take me in was what his sister wanted," Jeanne replied. "He told me his sister died on the day she was going to adopt a baby."

By this time, Jeanne and Mila were standing by the fire exit door in the basement. Luke ran out, covered in blood, and landed in Jeanne's arms.

"This is the poker champion, I presume?" Mila asked as Jeanne walked with Luke in her arms.

"Yes, and stop wasting time. Call an ambulance," Jeanne insisted, propping Luke up against a building and searching for the wound. She couldn't find it by probing his body so she undid his shirt buttons and pushed the two sides of the shirt away so she could examine his chest. It was covered in blood and Jeanne managed to find a pack of wipes to get the blood away to reveal a nasty wound. She ran her fingers over it and Luke let out a moan of pain, revealing he was still conscious, even if only slightly.

The ambulance arrived a few minutes later and pulled Luke and Jeanne inside. Mila was left having to run after the ambulance and make her way to the hospital herself. Luke was taken straight into surgery and Jeanne was left in the waiting room, her precious cape covered in blood. Mila came across her a while later.

"Goddammit, finally! I've been all over this hospital trying to find you!" Mila yelled, collapsing into the chair next to Jeanne. "Is he alright?"

"No idea," Jeanne replied. "I want to wash my cape. This is my best one. Walking around in a bloodstained cape will get me nowhere."

Mila nodded sympathetically. "You can go home now, if you like. I'll wait for news."

"...any other day I would've refused, but I really do need to change," Jeanne said. "Call me if you get any news." She deposited a piece of paper containing her mobile phone number and walked off, but the minute she was out of sight she ran and when she got out the hospital she broke into a desparate sprint and almost collapsed on her front door when she finally reached it. She threw open the door, ran in and thrust her cape into the washing machine. Her suit was surpisingly intact, and she wiped off the few bloodstains with a wipe. She turned on the washing machine and selected another cape from her vibrant collection.

Then the window shattered and there was a gun pressed against Jeanne's head.


End file.
